Hold still, moon flare of the evenings. My eyes can barelly grasp your holyness. Hold still, falling leaf of the oaks. My breath can barelly be contained in front of your end. Hold still, rising sun of the days. My hearth can barelly stand and face my death. Oh, a plea to the Gods by the already-damned! Oh, save us all in Your infinite mercy, Lords of the Lords!
domingo, 25 de enero de 2009